


Once, Twice, Three Times

by ethanhuwunt



Category: Mission: Impossible, Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 03:34:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15810480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethanhuwunt/pseuds/ethanhuwunt
Summary: “I can do this all day, Hunt.” Walker spoke wrapping the black leather belt around his hand.“So can I.” Ethan raised his eyebrows. “I have been through too many interrogations, this isn't at all different.”“Oh, I think it is.” A smirk formed on Walker's face. He got up and walked towards the older. He then placed his fingers under Ethan's chin, forcing him to look up directly at him. “You won't be getting out of this one, pretty boy.”





	1. The Watcher

Ethan always felt uneasy in this particular bar.

It was not because it was busy nor was it because of the loud motorbikers that constantly initiated fights. The pair of eyes that stared him down were to blame, sending shivers down his spine.

Somehow the man watching was _always_ in the bar sitting alone, back straight with crossed arms behind the tabe, barely touching his glass, and just watching. From the few times Ethan has awkwardly glanced back at him, the man’s figure had been carved in to his brain. His face had very defined features. A set of large grey-blue eyes that followed Ethan's every move, from the moment he steps into the bar, up until he leaves. He also had a pretty looking nose, and a strong jawline which was hidden under his stubble— oh, the moustache. One cannot miss _that_ moustache. He was well over 6ft, his body was heavily built, his chest was broad and so were his shoulders. His muscles screaming, trying to rip apart whatever shirt he was wearing.

Could he have been an agent of some sort? His body said yes, but why would he be stalking Ethan? Even if he were an agent, he would have made his move already. So, what was his deal?

 

“Ethan?” Ilsa snapped her fingers in front of his face, who was spacing out in the street as the two made their way towards Ilsa’s favourite bar, yes _that_ bar.

Ethan had not told Ilsa about the watcher who gave him anxiety whenever Ilsa called and asked to go to her favourite bar. He did not know why he had not told her— he felt embarrassed about it for some reason. The urge to punch the man in the face for staring at him was very high, but he did not want to attract attention, plus he was half the man's size. So what? He was just staring.

“Huh?” Ethan grasped a hold of reality. “Sorry. Yes, you were saying?”

Ilsa stepped forward and spun on her heel, stopping and facing Ethan. “Yeah… Okay, I'm not an _idiot_ , Ethan. Why are you always acting so weird whenever we're headed to this bar?”

“I am not nervous!” Ethan scoffed. “Don't be like this, people are staring, come on.” He grabbed Ilsa's arms to keep her movie again.

“Nuh-uh, I think not.” Ilsa lightly pushed Ethan back. “Speak. Now. Tell me the truth.” She demanded loudly.

“Seriously, it’s really nothing.” Ethan pushed.

Ilsa hissed out and began walking again. “Whatever, you'd talk if it was anything serious.” She was clearly annoyed.

What was he supposed to say? ‘A man twice my size watches my every move at the bar’? That is something a teenage girl would say. No way.

As they approached the bar, Ethan's heartbeat fastened.

Was he going to be inside, as always?

He followed in after Ilsa, and— he was not surprised.

The man was there.

Again, staring.

Watching.

Ready, like he knew Ethan was going to be here ahead of time.

Ethan quickly glanced away pretending he did not look at him.

“Let's sit over there.” Ilsa pulled on Ethan's arm.

As the two took their seats, a waiter greeted them.

They both ordered their drinks and began to relax after the long day they just had. Or at least Ethan pretended to relax.

The waiter was soon back with the two drinks.

Ethan just wanted to leave. He wore a false smile and took a sip of his drink.

Ever time they came here it was like this. Uneasy Ethan pretending to like it there, when in reality he felt like throwing a chair at the man and asking what his problem is, and Ilsa enjoying her drink.

But not that night.

 

Ethan glanced over at the man one more time and exhaled really hard. He was so tired of this, he was burning inside.

Ilsa slammed her glass on the table. “You're ruining both my night and yours, Ethan.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Speak. _Words_!”

“I don't know what you want me to say you delusional—” Thought he was enraged, he stopped himself before finishing his sentence.

Ilsa ignoring Ethan's rude attitude spoke, “Why are you so awkward and uncomfortable every time we are here?!”

“If you think I'm awkward and uncomfortable here, why'd you always bring us here then? Hm?”

Tension grew bigger and Ethan was yelling at this point.

More than just one pair of eyes were now on him.

“What are you all looking at?” He got up of his chair quick, causing it to tip and fall backwards.

Ilsa snatched her purse and jacket, “I always bring us here so you'd talk to me and tell me what's wrong. Cause clearly something is bothering you, but you don't wanna talk it out.” She said right before storming out of the bar.

 

Ethan sighed as he bent over and picked the chair up. “Nice going, Ethan. Your ego is really _that_ massive, huh?” He mumbled to himself as he sat back at the table. “Why are women so confusing though? Why would you put me in an awkward situation to get me to talk? That makes no sense, lady.” Realizing he was having a full conversation with himself at this point, he inhaled sharply, got up and headed towards the bathroom.

Two splashes of cold water made him feel better, though he was a bit tipsy from the drink earlier. Ethan hated how his night was ruined because of someone he did not even know.

'That’s it.’ He decided he had had enough of that freak. He did not care how much attention he would attract at this point, or how the other was twice his size in every way. All he wanted was to beat him down— or at least try to.

Ethan glanced at himself in the mirror, determined. He then rushed out of the bathroom with tight fists, ready to start something he did not know he could even finish.

Wait what? For the first time ever, the man was not there. Ethan was taken aback, shocked. 'He was right there…’ He thought to himself. Right then, he felt his heart drop.

‘ _Ilsa_.’ With shaky hands he reached for his phone speed dialing Ilsa’s number. Begging in his mind that she answers.

“Ethan?”

Her voice felt like heaven in that moment even if it was bitter. “Where are you?”

“Took a taxi home.”

“Are you safe?”

“Yes. I am safe, Ethan.” She said in a patronizing tone. “Last thing you should be worried about is me. Take care, bye bye.”

“Ils— hello?” He knew he should not be worried about Ilsa, however he could not help but overthink. That is all he ever did.

Ethan realized that the the man's jacket was still hung on his chair and that meant he was still around. Loosening his fists trying to calm his nerves, he walked back to his seat. He turned his head and took a quick look around attempting to locate him in the bar, but no luck.

Could he finally enjoy his drink without the pair of eyes stalking him?

He chugged the whiskey down as he stared at Ilsa's empty chair. “Wasn't my fault. She left herself.” He began talking to himself —victimizing himself—. “Yeah, yeah. Doesn't though, cause at the end I gotta apologize _anyways_!” He nodded his head and waved at the waiter. “Another one please.” He asked.

The redhead waiter refilled Ethan's glass.

Once,

Twice,

Three times.

Every time he downed the whiskey he glanced around looking for the man over and over again. But he was nowhere to be found and that meant Ethan could actually try to relax there for the first time.

He noticed his vision slightly blurring out for a few seconds. Rubbing his eyes he also felt nauseous. He felt extremely dizzy and drunk thought he had not drank as much. A whole _bottle_ would usually get him this drunk not just four quarter filled glasses. The surrounding sounds felt distant. He could hear himself breathe heavily, gasping for air. Ethan's mind was not working properly. He started to cough, feeling his sick stomach twist and turn.

The waiter from before hurried to him. Concerned, he asked “Sir, are you alright? Would you like me to get you some w—”

“Water, yes please. That would be kind of you.” Ethan heard a raspy deep voice behind him speak. He then hazily turned around to see _him._

“Yes, of course!” The waiter rushed away.

The man sat down in Ilsa's chair in front of Ethan. Staring at him as expressionless as always, but this time only a few inches away.

Ethan was still coughing. He was confused and his brain was not functioning right.

“Here you go, sir.” The waiter returned placing a glass of water in front of Ethan.

“That'll be all for now, thank you.” The stalker rose a bit from his seat and pulled out his wallet, tipping the waiter a good fifty dollars.

As the waiter walked off, Ethan felt like his only hope was lost.

“You look better up close.” The man began. “I'm Walker. August Walker, and you are?”

“Ethan H-hunt.” Ethan answered unwillingly. At this point he had lost complete control of his will. He had become a computer.

_What drug was this?_

“Oh, that is so nice to hear. I'm glad I have the right man. Though I suppose you don't necessarily _hunt_ do you? You're hunted instead.” _August Walker_ spoke casually yet professionally.

“You see,” he shifted in the seat adjusting his suit. “A said someone needs me to get some information out of you. I haven't been given strict orders, so I can do _whatever_ I want to you. Then,” A sadistic smile. “I will kill you.”


	2. Uncooperative

Next thing Ethan knew he was being escorted out of the bar and towards a black Mercedes. His body felt numb, he was unable to function nor speak properly. Anything he said came out as either a mumble or baby-talk. The lightest push was enough to get him moving to whichever direction the other man pleased. Ethan was trying to fight this, but he had zero luck. To the people passing by, the pair was seen a drunk man being guided by his sober friend rather than a kidnapping. 

Though escaping from this assassin was impossible, Ethan knew better than to let the word  _ impossible _ stop him.

He was directed and placed in the passenger seat. The other fasten his seatbelt for him then slammed the door shut. Walker went around the car, opened the door and smoothly sat in. He turned his head and watched Ethan try to bang on the window.

Once,

Twice,

Three times.

Ethan was weak to the point his hands against the glass barely made a  _ thud. _ Whereas in his normal state, one of his punches would get anyone within twenty feet to turn their head.

“Don't even try, Hunt. Now,” He paused and took a glance at his watch. “Get some sleep.”

A few seconds after those words, Ethan blacked out completely.

 

A bright light.

“Wakey, wakey.” The familiar voice from before demanded.

Ethan's eyelids fluttered open. He was tied to a chair very tightly. The memory of what had happened was quite blurry. All he knew was that he was drugged, and now the assassin was going to kill him. Trying not to panic, he looked around trying to figure out where he was _. _ The room was lit with a single light bulb hanging a few feet forward and above his head. The room was empty and soundproof matts covered every inch of its walls. In front of him sat was August Walker on a backward chair with his arms resting on the backrest as he enjoyed watching Ethan attempt to release himself from the ropes.

“My, my. Struggling, aren't we?” Those words made Ethan stay still, he did not want to give Walker to see him any more vulnerable than he already was. *Don't worry, you aren't going anywhere. I have made sure of that.” Walker raised his head slightly in pride. “I’m good with ropes.”

Since moving was not an option, he had to use his head to escape.

Walker pulled out his phone and spoke clearly, “I will be recording every word in this room, Mr. Hunt.” He stretched his arm out and dropped the phone on to the ground. “Let's begin. Today is August third two thousands eighteen and it is nine seventeen pm. Full name?”

“Fuck you?” Ethan shrugged speaking sarcastically.

A scoff echoed in the room. “No, no. You will cooperate, remember? I don't want to make things difficult here. You already know how this will end for you. So I suggest you help me help you.” A pause as the man examined the tied up Ethan. “Though, this look is kinda making me wish you wouldn't.”

Ethan did not quite understand what the other meant by that sentence, but the look in the man's eye did reveal a hint at  _ something. _

“By the time I'm done with you, Hunt—” He got up and reached his massive muscular arm up towards the light. “You  _ will _ be begging for mercy.” He said as he pushed the hanging light, letting it swing around above their head in a circular motion. That made Ethan dizzy, but he ignored it. He had to.

“So, let us try again shall we?” Walker unbuttoned his dress shirt’s collar and took of his jacket swinging it on the other side of the room. “Full name?” He said louder.

“You already know my ful—”

“Answer the fucking question. I got orders.”

“Ethan Hunt.”

“Who do you work for?”

“...”

A long pause.

“Who do you work for?” He repeated, shouting this time.

No response.

“Alright that's it.” Walker got up the chair, grabbed it's handel and threw it on the ground.

“You have a bad temper.” Ethan giggled, trying to display himself as careless as possible. But with  _ that _ massive figure getting up angrily when he had no way of moving, he had no control over how fast his heart rate grew.

The other unbuckled his belt and swooshed it out, folding it so it is easier to hold. He swung it back and with all the force those muscles could hold he whacked it right on Ethan's chest.

Once,

Twice,

Three times.

Ethan cried out but barely making any sound. The pain was too sharp on his chest. He could not breathe. He coughed and gasped for all the air his lungs could take but he did not feel them fill up. Since he was not able to curl up and to hold his chest the pain felt worse by second.

Walker who seemed to enjoy himself in presence of the older struggle, picked up the chair and sat back down only this time leaning back in the chair— as if he were watching TV, relaxing.

“Again, who do you work for?” He threw the belt on the ground and the metallic end made an echo.

Ethan figured Walker wanted begging and vulnerability, and that is exactly what he was not going to get. As long as he did not get what he wanted, there would be a chance for Ethan to attempt an escape.

“I can do this all day, Hunt.” Walker spoke wrapping the black leather belt around his hand.

“So can I.” Ethan raised his eyebrows. “I have been through too many interrogations, this isn't at all different.”

“Oh, I think it is.” A smirk formed on Walker's face. He got up and walked towards the older. He then placed his fingers under Ethan's chin, forcing him to look up directly at him. “You won't be getting out of this one, pretty boy.”

Ethan felt his heart sink at the moment of realization that there was a chance that this really was the end for him. How was he going to escape from this mad man? He had to untie himself, but how?

“I think you're starting to get a lil’ worried there, Hunt.” Walker bent down so the two men were face to face with their noses barely an inch apart. A strong smell of cologne filled Ethan's nose. Right there, he quickly shook off the thought that Walker was pretty charismatic.

“I'm not worried.” He tilted his head slightly trying to release out of Walker's hold, but that only made the other grip Ethans chin harder. “Torture me all you want. Give me all you got. I will not be saying a word to you.” Spoke the older in a stern tone.

“Is that so?” Walker stood up right and rose an eyebrow as he slowly moved his hand lower towards Ethan's neck. “So you're telling me you don't mind pain?”

“I can tolerate it well.”

“So you enjoy it?”

Ethan was taken aback by that question but he had to respond quickly, ensuring the other does not notice any weakness within him.

“Maybe.” Was his response since he did not know what the consequences of either a full ‘no’ or even ‘yes’ would be.

A heartbeat later he felt a strong grip on his neck. Ethan expected the grip to tighten, but to his surprise the hold started to loosen— then slowly tighten once more but harder.

One cough.

The grip was loosened.

By then Ethan was completely aware of what the other was doing, so he kept quiet and went with the flow. He new if Walker wanted this, he would not be able to do much with him tied up to the chair. In order for him to be untied, he would have to get the other to  _ want _ to untie him. Ethan had never seduced a man before, this would be a first. His life depended on this, so it  _ had _ to go well.

Walker leaned towards him once more, with an intimidating hunger in his eyes he glared at Ethan as he tightened the hold again. This time, Ethan let out a hiss and stared back at the other with a smirk on his lips. “Try me.” He whispered almost inaudibly.

Right then Walker's free hand crept behind and got a strong grip of Ethan's hair, pulling and forcing his head backwards. The light shone directly in his eyes but was quickly blocked by Walker's huge figure glancing down at him. Ethan shut his eyes as he prepared to be knocked out in the face when he saw the other’s head coming straight at him. But instead, he felt the assassin's lips onto his— kissing him.

Rough, it felt.  _ Really rough. _

That thick moustache was no help either.

His head was demandingly held in a position that satisfied Walker, since he had one hand locked onto his hair and the other on his neck. Ethan kept his eyes shut and partook in the action as he had no other choice. Figuring if he  _ did _ give Walker a pleasing makeout session he might tempt him to at least loosen the rope.

Moments passed by and the older started to taste  _ something. _

_ “Sour? _

_ No… _

_ Bitter? _

_ No…. _

_ It's got a metallic taste. _

_ Blood.” _

Ethan's lips were bleeding.

Walker seemed to have noticed too, because he had slowed down and stopped. He leaned back up and let both hands go of Ethan. “Holy shit!” He spat onto the ground in amusement and pride “You pussy. Are you seriously bleeding?”

Ethan wanted to tear him apart for the humiliation he was putting him through. He could feel his ears heating up and his fists turning white out of rage. But he had to endure it. He  _ had _ to. “Jokes on you,” Ethan smiled feeling blood drip down his lips. “I’m used to bleeding, I really don't mind it.”

“You don't? Why do I feel like you're just saying that to distract me from those red ears.” Walker faked a pout. Then as he pulled his sleeves up as he walked over to his jacket which layed on the ground then swung out a white handkerchief from it's pocket. He wiped his lips with it making sure there's no blood left, then threw the bloody cloth onto Ethan's lap. “Fuking disgusting. You better not have any STDs, Hunt.”

He bent over and got a hold of the belt again. “I would bring out my other tools but I'm loving this belt too much.” Walker swung the metallic end towards his face causing him to let out a high pitched yelp and groan in pain.

Ethan felt his cheek burn as if it were on fire. Blood began dripping down his face, but he was grateful that the belt had missed his eye by just a bit. His plan was not working. Walker was too smart to let him seduce him.

The assassin was steaming at this point. “Who do you work for, Hunt? I already know, but I need you to confirm so it's recorded. Goddamn it. Why are you making things so  _ fucking _ difficult?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy,, so this is all i have for now and i dont know when I'll be able to write a new chapter for you guys.. life is so busy right now >:'( i hate it cause it's taking me away from authen 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how long this will be but please be patient with me!!  
> Please please please comment I love comments and your thoughts on the fanfic :')  
> English is my third language so please dont hate me for the (m a n y) grammars mistakes  
> I'm so sorry!


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